Poetry (0.025s) Poetry, prose, essays, comments, poems - International Culture and Literature
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agonia.net 
· a distance there is
Article 
Despre Boierism: manifest si razie
Round Table
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2004-08-17 | | Yeah, so, life’s a mess. A royal -? A supreme -? A beautiful mess? Well... perhaps; but a big mess Nonetheless. ******************* I’ve got a black half moon under each of my eyes green. The skin hangs from this flesh, this mass of knots and folds; it hangs & covers me white, brittle and very Permeable. Electricity surges through the silence of the Sunday noon tram ride. People are staring aimlessly, thinking to themselves: “I’m invisible, far away from most things; and now it’s your turn to tell me I’m special.” The sky keeps lying, undecidedly; it mirrors white, then gray, then blue in the one blind eye of each Cyclops car. We glide across the city and above the city glides her sky. ********************* Yes. This is silence. Love shut up two weeks ago, when You told me you’ve finally found the one bond that’s shackle-free. Still, when you cast your eyes upon me the following time I discovered, to my amazement, my own reflection trapped right there, in your iris. I guess you must be carrying me around quite like one does a benign tumor – harmless; yet such a nuisance. ************************* The tram slips me away, Onwards. The sky mirrors you as your eyes cloud up with my words; you pick an imaginary cigarette, turn to face me and say: “Yeah, so, life’s a mess…”
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